Hellooooo, Nurse
by koreantrash101
Summary: The Halloween AU that no one asked for or knew they needed. Tis the season! Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or any of its characters. Rated M for explicit content (obviously), such as cursing, sensual happenings, drug and alcohol abuse, and spooky Halloween gore. Beware! There be comedy that layeth here! Full summary inside. Trinity Contest!
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, all! Here's the first chapter of the first story for the Trinity Contest! Don't forget to check my fanfiction page for all of the rules and prizes and such! Hope you all enjoy!**

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 _Summay: Halloween is finally here! It's his favourite time of year because he fits right in without having to try. She doesn't, though, she stands out like a sore thumb, all enticing and shit as she dresses like an actual demon nurse, not at all following the slutty standard of most college girls. Her hair's a mess, she has ugly fake teeth in her mouth, and you can't even imagine a lick about her body shape. It's impressive, he never thought he'd find himself attracted to appears to be a medic troll. He usually doesn't partake in the ritual that is flirting, especially with such *normally* beautiful girls with honey blonde hair and green eyes that leave you paralyzed, but she's different, an obvious dits, and she doesn't seem to care about social norms. Not to mention she likes scary movies filled with blood and gore almost as much as he does. She's, like, ... perfect._ (This story is tagged as apart of the Trinity Contest. If you are interested in what that is, please visit my fanfiction page for full details (rules, prizes, etc.) Hope you enjoy!)

* * *

 **Chapter One: It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year**

"Dude, calm down." No. He will not _calm down._ Halloween is _finally_ here! It's his favourite time of year because he fits right in without having to try, and he _always_ has to try. He's tired of trying. "You're, like, actually grinning a little … and no one has told any sort of twisted joke to try and sate your thirst for sickeningly gory comedy. You're freaking me out."

"No, I'm not …" Soul scowls because he does not grin, he may sneer or even seem to leer at times, but never _grins_.

"No, seriously, you have, like, a pregnancy glow or whatever." Blake has always been his best friend, a friend who likes to poke fun at him as he hosts that dumb little shit-eating smirk of his. He honestly doesn't mind it, though, compared to the tyrants that haunt the nightmare that was his high school. Just because he's so white that you can kind of see him in the dark and his eyes are kind of scary as fuck doesn't mean he's a literal demon spawn. Everyone in his family is like that, maybe some more than others - namely him - but it's all in the family genes. He doesn't have albinism either, an excuse that one of his few defenders had used to save him from some bullies long ago. It's a kind of mean, though understandable conclusion. He can see why they had thought that ... But it won't matter for the next few days! He can walk around without having to worry about putting in coloured contacts so his ruby reds don't make some poor little girl cry again, or hair dye that his white tresses refuse to hold for more than a week - week and a half if he's lucky. He can just be his ice glaring, blood-curdling, horror loving self.

"Shut up."

"I'm sorry, you're right …" It's coming, he can feel it. "as a _virgin_ , there's no possible way you could be prego." There it is. Blake has indirectly stated that Soul is of the female species, a solid blow on his part, but he actually thinks that girls are pretty badass, so he won't refute his friend on that account. Blake can't even live a day without one, so really, it's kind of a compliment … maybe.

"I am not!"

"Ha! One drunken night that you 'can't really remember' doesn't count. You weren't very sure the next morning." Soul hates his sing-song voice...

"I woke up _naked_ next to an attractive female that was also _naked_ with what looked and felt like dry cum spread pervasively. Her red lipstick was all over me, including the cir _cum_ ference of my dick. If I didn't lose my virginity that night, I don't know what I did."

"Firstly, nice use of geometric vocabulary in correlation with sexual, mad props for that innuendo." Nice. He didn't even mean to do that. Initiate internal fist pump/external eye roll. "And secondly, fair point. At the very least, you more than likely got a blowjob."

"Which is oral _sex_."

"Stiiill … not quite what we're going for."

"Still counts." Blake lifts his hands up in slight defeat, that dumb smirk of his in place. The conversation is over, but it's iffy whether he has won the friendly argument or not. It doesn't feel like it …

"So, what are you going to dress up as for Kilik's party?" Ah-ha, change of topic. It's a sign of sorts that Blake knows he's losing their little squabble and has resorted to retreat back to the land of small talk in favour of not having to acknowledge his loss. Wuss.

"Are you kidding me? I have to dress up as someone I'm not every day _just_ so I don't scare people. I'm going as myself."

"Laaaaaammmmeee! Dude!"

"Nope, I can finally go out as my natural self, looking flawlessly evil as fuck without being judged by really mean moms."

"I do not understand you. You work so hard every day for the sake of other people, people who don't even know you, and you don't make an effort to talk to them or try to make friends. I've been your best friend since forever and you are the biggest loner I have ever met. Why put yourself through that anymore?"

"You ask even after you saw that poor little girl sob simply because she caught sight of me."

"So, you do it for the innocent little kids."

"I do it for the innocent little kids." Blake stares at Soul, a cheesy grin different from that of his usual mocking smirk spreading across his face. "What?" His asshole of a friend reaches out toward his cheek, wriggling his index finger as he coos.

"Awww, you're so sweeeeet." He smacks his hand away but they're both laughing because, yes, he secretly loves kids - the respectful kind - and wants a whole horde of them. He's also a romantic sap sometimes, as he indulges in the occasional rom-com chick flick, but fuck anyone who judges him for it. He has feelings. So, what? Just because he looks like the antichrist doesn't mean he actually is … that. But he also watches a lot of CSI and murderous horror shows and knows how to effectively and efficiently kill someone and get rid of the corpse without leaving a trace. Yeah. He's fucking scary as shit, but he loves those goddamn kids.

* * *

"You're coming as yourself?"

"Sweeeet."

"That'll be intense. Maybe you could, like, jump out and scare the shit out of people as they walk up to the house."

"I don't think I've ever seen you without your contacts in. Is it true that your eyes are the colour of death?"

Everyone at the table is excited for this party, but they seem even more enthused by the prospect of Soul attending said Halloween bash as his sinister-looking self. Kilik, Harvar, Kidd, Blake, Justin, and Soul are all sitting at a table in the dining hall, chowing down on vicious amounts of overly greasy food as they discuss the party's details. He hadn't been aware that he was expected to aid in the dècor and music of this shindig, and it was the day after tomorrow. These assholes expect too much from him, he is merely a human man.

"No! You guys are supposed to be _discouraging_ this!" Wow, thanks, supposed best friend.

"Why? He _is_ the perfect costume." … He's not sure how to feel about that comment.

"Are his eyes actually the colour of death?" No, … at least, he doesn't think so.

"No." Thank you. "They're more like … the colour of hell or Satan himself." Oh. Right, like that's so much better. Your 'thank you' has been revoked. Watch your back, Kidd, Soul is devising plans for you.

"So, I'm lost, why don't you want him to go as himself?" Kilik and Blake are having a disagreement over this whole 'issue' and he doesn't want to take sides. Blake just wants to coordinate with him or whatever - if the two retarded looking costumes he found stashed away in their coat closet is any indication - and Kilik is only for Soul going as Soul because he is a frightening being when au naturale. Kidd is trying his best to describe to the exact extent of how terrifying his eyes are to Justin and Harvar, who have taken a huge interest in the matter, and Soul ... is eating. His last words of the evening will probably be the "as myself" that he mumbled out before this madness erupted because he's shutting down. His ears are blocking out everything that isn't coming from the headphones he has decidedly placed over them and his mouth is focusing on nothing more than chewing his fries. They're really good, he may go back for more.

He chances a brief look up in curiosity, merely because his usually animated friends have ceased their overly enthusiastic movements, to find that they're all just sitting there, staring at him, or rather, slightly elevated past him. His eyebrows scrunch together and before he has a chance to really ask or take his headphones off, he feels a soft tap on his left shoulder, startling him. No one really dares to come near him, let alone touch him. Even with the coloured contacts hiding away his apparently satanic stare and his hair dyed a dark brown, he still manages to radiate an aura of 'don't fucking come near me or I'll chop off your hands and eat them like Carl.' So, this would be a first. He turns slowly as he reaches up to pull back the music blasting into his ears, his eyes pleading for any kind of signal from his friends that might help him with this encounter, but nope. The bunch of fucks are gawking at whoever is standing behind him. At least that tells him one thing: it's most likely a girl. Shit. He doesn't do girls, both physically or mentally. He can't handle the stress that comes with them. He never knows what they want, he can't read them or their twisted signals the slightest bit.

When his eyes land on that of the happy go lucky cheerleader, Patti Thompson, he lets out a sigh of relief. Patti is fucking crazy, mad as all get out, but she is nice and super sweet. He had to do a project with her last semester and she actually did her portion of the work. It was incredible to see that a girl who usually just does weird origami in class all of the time could be so good at history. Why she's standing over him with that ginormous grin plastered on her face is beyond him, however.

"Uh, hey, Patti. What's up?"

"Oh, not much! How have you been?"

"Not … bad, I guess. You?"

"I'm doing wonderfully! Would you mind walking with me for a moment?"

"Uh, … " he looks back at his dumbfounded friends to find them still just staring at her - boobs. They're staring at her boobs. They're huge and bounce with every sweet and encouraging word that leaves her mouth. No, seriously, they're like water balloons the size of melons - and decides that, yeah. He'll gladly walk with her over continuing to try and eat in silence while these assholes he has as friends berate him as to why Patti Thompson talked to _him_. He's probably, no, definitely the least known or popular of their group. With Kilik and Blake on the football team, though, he isn't exactly as completely invisible as he'd like to be. And now, as he scoots his chair back to take her up on her odd offer, he's realizing that this could only make that matter worse. People might start recognizing him. Everyone is kind of glancing over at them as he stands up, muttering a curt, "Sure," and follows her as she weaves through tables filled with people who greet her eagerly. He doesn't like the attention it brings to associate with the people much above him in the social hierarchy.

"Okay! So," she begins, beaming as usual as they come to a quieter corner in the cafeteria, hidden away from the eyes of most - _thank God._ "I have a question for you. Well, I have a few." She's even more ebullient than she normally is, which is a little concerning, so he'll give her what she wants, he supposes. It's only Patti-the-fucking-crazy, what's the worst that could happen?

"Okay, shoot."

"Do you have a girlfriend?" He takes that back immediately because she has just managed to ask him the worst possible question, next to, ' _when was the last time you had sex?'_.

"Um, heh, no, Patti. I am one-hundred percent single. Thank you for reminding me."

"Oh!" She's laughing as she lightly hits his chest - like it's _so_ funny. It doesn't hurt, but it kind of does … his pride, that is. He tries to pretend that it doesn't. "Stop that, silly! Don't take it like I'm making fun, I'm actually here to help!"

"Okay?" He forces what feels like an uncomfortable, but well-practiced grin her way - he will only try for certain, well-meaning people who deserve it. Don't tell Blake. - and nods slightly as if this is all fine and dandy. He doesn't really get what she means by ' _help_ ', though, and it scares him a little.

"You'll be at Kilik's Halloween party, right?" Ah, yet another thing he was excited about, but no longer wants to converse over. She's really hitting all home runs today ... and is sliding right into his nutsack.

"I am."

"Good! We'll meet you there! Look spiffy!" And then she just … walks away, all bubbly and shit. But she is Patti-the-fucking-crazy, so what is he to do? Who is we? Wait, … yeah! Who _is_ 'we'? It takes him only a moment as he plays back their conversation before he realizes that he can't go to the Halloween party anymore. Patti will be there with a 'we' that most likely means 'blind date' and Soul doesn't do that shit, especially not on the only day of the year he feels comfortable in his own skin. Blind dates suck and don't make him comfortable in his own skin, _ever_. He likes Patti, and knows that she means well, but no. Nope. Uh-uh. No can do. He won't do it. He also won't be going back to the table where his friends sit waiting to interrogate him. Nope. Only embarrassment and annoyance come with a public onslaught of questions he can't answer. Luckily, he has his apartment keys and phone with him, so he quickly leaves the premises in favour of escape via back door that nobody really knows exists, and makes his way back to his place, texting Blake to bring his bag back for him.

Patti is really sweet, but he's still shaking his head as he places the headphones back rightfully over his ears.

* * *

"You're an asshole, you know that? What do you even have in here? A three-hundred-pound weight? God, I hate you." Soul smirks as his friend curses at him and rants about how he now owes him a delicious meal of his choosing. "I'm serious. You will make me anything I want. Got it?" Blake points a finger at him as he pulls a water bottle out of the fridge with his other hand, glaring at him lightheartedly all the while.

"Okay, okay. Thank you for bringing it back for me."

"Yeah, yeah, ya cute kid loving sap." _Buttwipe_. "I'm heading to bed; I have morning practice. Night!" Blake walks down the short hall to his room without a peep of the Patti incident. It's really nice that his best friend knows when to not push him on certain things.

They don't have any classes on Fridays, which is tomorrow and it's awesome because Halloween falls on a weekend this year. It just adds to its magnificence. This calls for a horror movie marathon tonight! - on his laptop … with earphones because Blake is his fucking best friend and deserves peace and quiet during his beauty sleep. He sighs at the knowing that an all-nighter of classic murder and gore with earphones on his laptop isn't as scary as on their big screen in the living room with every single light out, so … maybe just two or three? He thinks that maybe his ears can handle the ringing tomorrow.

Soul hears Blake's door open again and is quickly met with a stern look from his usually easygoing friend.

"I need you to drive me to practice in the morning, so no all night horror fest tonight."

"Whaaaatt? Noooooo, whyyyyyy?" He should've known. Blake ruins most things he holds dear.

"I just told you. You, me, and Miss Erma are gettin' it on in the early mornin." Soul doesn't like or appreciate the weird hip situation thing that Blake is doing. It just doesn't look right.

"Don't talk about Miss Erma that way, you sexist pig. She's ten times stronger than you and deserves to be treated with respect." Miss Erma is his motorcycle. Yes. He _is_ that cool.

"I apologize. You're right, Miss Erma could wipe the streets with my ass, and she can … _after_ morning practice. Tomorrow, 4:30. Be there." Before Soul can decline, Blake makes a break for his room again, shutting and locking the door. Soul checks the time on the stovetop; it's already 11:15, so if he goes to bed now, he'll get a whopping five hours of sleep. That's more than he usually gets on weekdays. But he already knows _that's_ not gonna happen. He's not tired yet and has always been nocturnal. Soul pouts as he thinks about it all. Blake has taken away his happiness in more ways than one. He can't check anything off of his to do list now. Horror movies? No. Sleeping in? Definitely not. … That's pretty much it, that's all he wanted to do today. Fuck you, Blake. Soul hates him, he's such an asshole.

* * *

Fucking damn it. Soul is tired as fuck and just wants to watch some good ol' Halloween thrillers alone in the dark, but _nooooo_. Blake needs to go to practice before the fucking sun, and Justin needs a ride to work; Harvar needs to go retake a test, and Kidd wants a lift to the library on the other side of the fucking town because ' _it has better symmetry'._ Bullshit. No. Fuck that. What is he, some chauffeur? He says that, but he still takes them all anyway, making sure to tell them to take a bus home because he will not be picking them up like their fucking mother. Jesus Christ.

He also forgot that he is in charge of the music for Kilik's party tomorrow night, which he was reminded of via phone call from said party host about an hour ago asking if the playlist is done. It is _not_. So, Soul sits in his bed, headphones on as he shuffles through his scary feel-good selection to try and find something he might be able to remix for grinding. Blake and Justin had insisted for the greater good of alleviating the throbbing of hard dicks and to invoke the sweating of female bodies. He doesn't understand it all that much, if he's being honest, but what the hell. They're soul-sucking leeches either way, so whatever.

He is finally done by 2 in the afternoon and he's lost so much sleep and quality trepidation time with the tv screen. It sucks, but he's done, so at least now he can just-

… Was that the fucking doorbell? It rings again, so yeah, it is. Why is his life so damn complicated? He's super cranky and doesn't want to answer the door. Maybe if he just goes back to his room real quiet-like, they won't know he's here. Whoever is on the other side of the door _knows_ because they bang their fist up against it while yelling, "Soul! Get your ass out here! I know you're in there!" _Fuck_. Their bathroom has a window, but it's really small, and he's not bragging, but he's kind of scared that his dick will be harmed during the course of his escape. That and he lives on the fifth floor, so really, no window in the apartment would do.

"Soul! Come on!" A few more obnoxious banging sounds and empty threats coerce him into going and opening the damn thing.

"Fine, fine, fine, just shut the fuck up you're annoying the neighbors."

"Finally. That only took you seven and a half minutes, you dirtbag."

"I missed you, too, asshole. Now, what the hell are you doing here?" He doesn't much care for his family, they don't really get him and his love for cringe-worthy bloodbaths and scream-filled murder mysteries, but Wes is his complete opposite. And no, they don't actually attract. He thinks that that only works in a romantic sense. He and Wes are more like the same side of different magnets, they repel the other to the point where they can never really see eye to eye, even if they have the same point of view.

"I'm here to watch over you during Halloween."

"What?" Wes doesn't answer as he just lets himself in, a small bag hanging from his shoulder that he lets drop to the ground. "Again, I ask … what?"

"Mom was worried you'd get alcohol poisoning like last year, so she sent me down here to keep a watchful eye on you until this weekend is over."

"Okay, uuh, no. First of all, watching is usually implied when eyes are involved, so you're just being repetitive, as per usual. Secondly, fuck you. I don't need a babysitter."

"Well, fuck you, too. Eyes can do so much more than watch. And mom thinks you do. If you have a problem with it then go and complain to her. I'm just following orders." This is outrageous. He has never gotten 'alcohol poisoning', he had had one beer, his first beer ever, which regrettably went straight to his head. He crashed hard when he got home, waking up the next morning with a few bumps and bruises and a massive headache he hadn't been prepared for, but definitely _not_ alcohol poisoning.

"Alright, what did she threaten you with?" A massive manhood eating sigh follows a brief silence. Yup. He thought so. There's no way Wes would willingly give up a holiday such as this to simply 'follow orders,' fucking liar.

"I'm supposed to go abroad next semester and through the summer."

"Said she'd make you pay for it yourself, did she?" Silence. Yeah, this is why Soul has a job and is saving up for the day he can just disappear. "Okay. Well, how about this. I call mom, fake a fit, get yelled at and when she hangs up, we take a bunch of pictures that you can send her throughout the night so she thinks we're doing what she wants when in reality, I get to stay home watching horror movies and you can go bang some poor woman who deserves far better than you that you'll more than likely meet at a bar? Sound fun?"

"Why do you think I'm here. Let's get this show on the road." Okay. So, maybe sometimes they can see eye to eye.

* * *

It had worked. It always works. Soul and Wes' 'fake it to make it' plan from high school is one of the only remaining things that keep them in cahoots, like brothers should be. Wes left a few hours ago with a butt load of pictures to send to their mummy dearest hourly, complete with changing of clothes, using the bathroom to fake nighttime, and food cooked by Wes to throw her off the trail. Soul is currently watching his first classic: Psycho. It's not really that scary anymore, but it's still really good, so he can't not watch it. He needs to pee, though, and he's out of popcorn, so he pauses it at a decent place, right before the second to last scene, and makes his way out of his room to the kitchen.

"Hey! There you are! Thanks for the lift this morning."

"Yeah, no problem," he grunts, dark bags under his eyes because he hasn't managed to get in a good nap at any point during the day and refuses to go to sleep until he sees Marion's car being pulled from the swamp, God damn it.

"I heard you were driving everybody around like the sweet, kid loving sap that you are?"

"And Wes."

"What about him? What does he want this time?" It's nice to know that Blake cares enough to ask. He likes that his best friend is aware of how horrid his family really is. Well, ... they're really not, but they pretend that they are.

"He was here on mother's orders."

"Pulled the 'fake it to make it' bit again, aye?"

"Indeed."

"Good lad. Anyway, I'm headin' over to Kilik's to help decorate, you in?"

"Bathroom, horror films, sleep." Soul is dragging his feet as he walks to the loo because he can't, he just can't right now.

"You sure? Kilik'll have your hide for not showing."

"I played mom and good younger brother today, not to mention I finished his fucking party playlist. He can suck my balls. I am king." The slam of the bathroom door halts any and all conversation for a few minutes until he finally reemerges, refreshed and slightly more amiable. Blake is wearing different clothes than before, but Soul doesn't really care. His friend is heading to the front door with his keys in his hand as he slides his right shoe the rest of the way on.

"Last chance."

"Get out of my sight, you heathen. No human should be up and about before the sun." With that, Blake merely shrugs, ready to leave before he comes to a stop at the door.

"Just so I don't forget, Patti told me what you guys talked about and has threatened me that if you're not at the party, she'll cut off not only your dick, but mine, so …"

"If I'm going down, I'm taking you with me."

"You will be there, costume or not, even if I have to knock you out and drag you."

"But …" Soul flails a little like a kid throwing a fit because that's exactly what he's doing. "But, whyyy?"

"Because, unlike you, I actually use my dick." It isn't until after Blake closes and locks the door does Soul come up with a somewhat decent comeback.

" … only in the bathroom with your hand …" No one is there to hear it but him. It's fine though. It's almost like rubbing your bare bum up against the car of the person you hate most in the world. You got them back, but they'll never know that you plastered your luscious booty particles all over their brand new Mustang. They'll walk through life thinking that they got the last laugh, but no. In reality, you did. Soul laughs then, low and kind of demonic, only to stop himself immediately and head straight back to his room. He needs sleep. He's losing his mind at this point, laughing at his own childish riposte that is actually lacking any worthy components to be dubbed as such. He needs to get some shut-eye before he starts to talk to himself like a madman. But first, Psycho. Psycho first always.

* * *

He doesn't know when he fell asleep, but he definitely didn't make it through the movie. He had only had two scenes left, but he probably crashed right after hitting play. Soul rolls over to check the time on his alarm clock. It's still fucking only 8 a.m. … why the hell is he waking up right now?

"Soul! I said get the _fuck_ out of bed and open this goddamn door! NOW!" Oh. That's why.

Still groggy and plenty tired, he manages to get out of bed and over to unlock the door quick enough so that whoever it is doesn't start banging on the cheap wood again. Poor door was only doing its job. Upon opening his portal to the outside world that he very much doesn't want to associate with today, he finds it to be his brother … _again_. Why? Is someone upstairs mad at him? At first, he apologizes for not having finished Psycho the night before, but then he thinks that that can't possibly be the reason he is being faced with such difficulty. And this early in the morning, too. He really hates his life.

"Wow, get over yourself, drama queen." Hm … he must have said some of that out loud. "Try all of it. Come on, let's get this over with. Mom's about to call, so put on some work out clothes, do whatever to make you break a sweat, and let's fake this shot, brotha'!" He hates Wes more, though.

By the time Soul is done changing into a pair of gym shorts and a cut off t-shirt, the phone begins to ring. "Shoot! Tell her I had to take a dump or something after getting back from our run!" He grabs some socks and running shoes and steps out of the room to go do some jumping jacks - Wes already looks like he actually was working out this morning, the piss ant - because Soul needs to try and look the part. After a minute or two of excessive push-ups and running around like a weirdo, Soul goes back to his room, making sure to flush the toilet and run some water before entering.

"... -nd so we ended up watching Psycho last night anyway. It _is_ Halloween, so I thought it was fair." It's a good thing Wes at least knows what movie he watches first every year. Wes is looking down at the screen, which means that it's a video call, indeed, so he puts on a fake smile in hopes to semi please his overbearing mother.

"Well, I don't want you boys watching anymore horror movies. They're not good for your brain."

"Mom," Soul interjects, pretending not to have heard that last bit. "That you? Wes, why didn't you tell me mom was on the phone? Hi mom!" He likes to annoy the shit out of his brother, but Wes willingly hands over the screen, obviously not in the mood for Mrs. Evans.

"Hello, sweety. How are things at college? Are you passing all of your classes? Blake isn't getting you into any trouble, right? I swear that boy always got into fights, and that hair, my goodness. I told your brother to make sure you don't watch anymore-"

"I'm fine, mom, really. Grades are good, classes are fine. Blake is still my bestest friend ever, I like his hair, so leave it, please. Wes and I gotta go, now, I got us tickets to go see a back to back showing of IT and The Silence of the Lambs. See ya!" And then he hangs up because _no_. First she takes away his Halloween freedom by sending his obnoxious older brother to watch over him, and then tries to take away his horror films? One of the only things he treasures? She's not nice. That's like him saying she can't listen to opera and then taking away her favourite pearl necklace, it's just not right.

"Wow. That won't make her happy."

"Don't care. Now, out. I need to catch some more z's." Truth be told, he's not proud of his actions, but he's a grumpy, spoiled brat who needs a good nap before he has to go fulfill the obligations that come with DJing a Halloween party. He didn't sign up for it, but it's been decided. He won't enjoy it if he isn't fully rested, which would be a shame, seeing as he's only been looking forward to this day all year.

"Fine. If mom calls, I will not be held responsible for your backtalk."

"Fair enough. Shoo, shoo." His bed is his best friend and he appreciates the darkness that his curtains bring as they cancel out the rising sun. His pillow is welcoming, even with the wet spot of his drool from his previous slumber. He's happy in this moment and is thankful for the peace and quiet of the early morning. Everyone else is more than likely asleep, resting in preparation for the events to come with the night.

He smiles as he pulls his covers further up his lean body.

Happy Halloween.

* * *

 **Yay! Not gonna lie, I've had a lot of fun writing this story and I hope you all like it! Don't forget to leave a review and to check out my profile for the details of the contest! (Keep a lookout for other stories for the contest!)**

 **Until next time!**

 **Much Love!**

 **K.T.**


	2. Chapter 2

Has it been over a year since I had originally planned to post this? Yes. I apologize. I wrote this quickly without proofreading, so hopefully it's acceptable. As always, please direct my attention to any spelling and/or grammar mistakes and please let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Belated Happy Halloween!

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Tonight, Tonight**

Blake woke him up about an hour ago, warning him that if he didn't get up and get ready, he'd make him dress up as a muppet. Soul can't pull off a muppet, so he's up and looking through his closet for something scarier than what he usually wears with a bowl of Bloody Gut cereal - a Honey Nut Halloween special - in his hand.

"You should put some of this under your eyes."

"What is that?"

"It's that face paint stuff I got for my costume."

"Does it itch?"

"Nah, just don't put too much on if you use it, it can get pretty greasy when you start sweating. Decide what you're gonna wear yet?"

"Nope. I feel like I should wear that white t-shirt with the holes surrounded by fake blood, though. Probably with my black pants."

" … "

"What?"

"... You're just so lame… it makes me sad."

"Well, sorry I don't want to be a muppet. I do not make a good Hermit the frog."

"Uh, no, it's _Kermit,_ ya dunce, and you were supposed to be the Rizzo to my Gonzo. Now look at what I've been reduced to!"

"I think you make a good swamp monster!"

"..."

"What?!"

"You can't even tell what I am! I want a divorce!" Blake whines as he stomps out of the room. Yup, accurate. They're basically like a married couple anyway, though Blake cheats on Soul _a lot_.

"No, wait … babe, don't go ... " Soul deadpans, chuckling to himself as he hears Blake making his way back to his room. "You're the only one for me … I can't live without you …" He's trying really hard not to laugh because the look on Blake's face as his head pops back in is priceless.

"I hate you."

"I love you, too."

"Dammit, you always know just what to say!" he fake sobs, body still half out in the hallway. Soul still can't put his finger on what Blake is going for, though; it's really hard to tell.

"You know, if you're looking to lay some chickens tonight, that might not be the best costume…"

"..."

"..."

"Shit … you're right …" Blake turns from him quickly, heading back to his own room. "What am I going to wear?!" He says this with a certain femininity to his voice, sounding a little like Blake's mom on date night. It shocks both of them, Soul stepping out into the hall to stare at Blake who's attempting to fight down a laugh. Neither of them can hold it back anymore; they're made for each other.

* * *

He's put very little effort into being a ghost or walking dead or whatever he is, but it just _feels_ _right_. That's the whole beauty of this holiday, he doesn't have to try. People love the way he looks, they admire him and compliment him. The only problem is that they all think it's just a costume that he's put together; they don't see that it's just him, _his_ white hair and pale skin, _his_ natural death stare, _his_ creepily sharp teeth hidden behind thin lips. It's everything he has to offer and they think it's all for show. Either way, he really can't win. The black and grey paint under his eyes, however, adds about 13 percent to his fear factor; his eyes pop out to scare the living shit out of everyone and it's an incredible feeling. As he and Blake walk up to the house, this guy makes eye contact, just for a second, and falls backward off the porch railing he's sitting on, a "Holy fuck!" echoing slightly before his descent. Soul smirks as he leisurely walks over to peer over the edge.

"You good?"

"Yeah, man. You're just fucking scary as shit." This guy is an athlete, the kind who probably would have beat Soul up in high school, so he's feeling real good as he watches him struggle to get up out of the brush below. Make that 20 percent.

"Come on, Sap. We're supposed to be helping host this thing."

"Yeah, yeah." Soul and Blake make their way into the house, 'Spooky Scary Skeletons' playing almost obnoxiously loud. Soul has his laptop to set up at the DJ station because the files were too big to send to Kilik's crappy phone. There's a lot of people here and it's still early, which makes him feel slightly uncomfortable, the thought of how many more people will try to fit into this small space scares him.

"There you are! God! I've been playing the same ten songs on repeat for the past hour. Why're you so la- … holy shit, dude. You look like my worst nightmare."

"Good to know," Soul throws an evil smirk Kilik's way and watches him shiver as he averts his gaze to look at Blake ... or really anything that isn't Soul.

"Anyway, why are you guys so late?"

"Sorry, my previous costume was a mess."

"I still don't understand what you were going for."

"Shut up, it would have been a genius idea."

"Emphasis on _would have been_."

"Okay, look here, buster, I'll explain it one more time..."

"Nevermind that, you guys can bicker later. Soul, follow me. I can't take listening to another round of bad remixes." Soul follows Kilik to a corner that has been set up perfectly so that no one can get into his personal space without him seeing them coming. He's been put up off of the floor about three steps with huge speakers surrounding him and it's awesome because that means he's less likely to get surrounded by drunks. As soon as he gets everything connected and has his laptop up and running, he changes the music to a more upbeat, though still creepy remix of 'Soap' by Melanie Martinez. He likes her and he's really digging the projector that's casting the music video on the far wall. It's not until about three songs in does some typical white girl scream for Justin Bieber music, which he will _not_. J.B. has no place here, as doesn't have any Halloween worthy music and Soul didn't even try to remix anything of his for this party, so no. No Justin Bieber. The girl begins to make her way to him for ignoring her, but turns and walks right back to her friends like the coward that she is as soon as she sees his face. That's right. Go back from whence you came, you basic fake blonde … he doesn't even know what she's supposed to be, honestly. There's way too much skin and not enough costume. Her makeup is what makes her frightening; the layers upon layers of thick orangey-toned whatever it is and long fake lashes with who knows how many coats of black gunk… all that and the fact that her lips are definitely not that big - he can clearly see the not so subtle and poorly drawn dark line around them - makes for a really bad Barbie.

Soul shakes his head as he continues to remix more songs because Kilik thinks that 98 -that's right, 98. He likes to remix scary music in his spare time - isn't enough, the slave-driver. It's only about 9:30 and hordes of people keep entering the house, pretending that it isn't a fire hazard as they pile in. He hates Kilik a little, but silently thanks him for the barricade that is protecting him from being squished between strangers.

* * *

About 2 hours in and three and a half beers later, Soul is feeling a little antsy; his leg is shaking from how bad he has to pee already and he's not looking forward to what happens next. He really doesn't want to try to maneuver his way through the crowd to find the bathroom, but pissing in a bottle in front of about a hundred people, give or take, seems to be the less desirable of his options. He sends a quick text to Harvar to come watch his laptop so that some drunken hooligan doesn't come and destroy it while he relieves himself. Harvar doesn't drink, he can smoke anyone under a bus and is known to partake in illegal drugs from time to time, but the kid is the most trustworthy of his friends at this moment in time. Plus, Harvar owes him for driving him to retake his test the other day. Soul waits a few minutes for his friend, fidgeting to distract him from the ache of his bladder. 3 minutes later, Soul spots Harvar attempting to push his way through obnoxiously drunk dancers and Soul feels a little bad.

"Hey! Thanks, man! I'll be right back!"

"Take your time! I ain't tryna push through that again anytime soon! Good luck!"

Soul is dreading this, very much so, but he will pee his pants if he doesn't go _now_. He's just scared that all of the pressure from the masses will squeeze it out of him. He grits his teeth and walks down the three steps, looking shyly up from under his bangs, or at least, so he thought. As he walks forward, people seem to just move, his maroon stare apparently able to part the ocean of people. He straightens his back and walks with a bit more confidence because, dammit, he might as well own it. Soul has access to the upstairs as a friend of the host, so he climbs over the strategically placed couch as discreetly as possible because he is _not_ waiting in that hella long ass line for the bathroom when he has to piss this bad.

He makes his way up the stairs quickly and goes straight to the bathroom to drain the lizard. He loves this feeling, it's odd to like something so weird, but who doesn't like the feeling of the freedom that comes with relieving oneself? It's magical.

Just as he goes to zip up his pants, he hears the door quickly open and close behind him. Huh … he must have forgotten to lock the door in his haste. He pauses for only a minute before filling the static silence with the sound of his zipper and the flush of the toilet. He knows there is someone behind him, but he goes about washing his hands first anyway. Once done, he glances over his shoulder to find a girl; green eyes wide, face painted white and black to make her cheeks appear to be sunken in, her hair long and made to look unkempt. She put a lot of effort into her costume and she looks kind of frightening. He likes it.

"Demon nurse?"

"Yeah," she replies under her breath like she's trying to be quiet.

"Neat. You need to use the bathroom?" He's leaning cooly back against the sink, more out of discomfort than anything else. She doesn't respond verbally, however, just shakes her head in the negative. She locks the door behind her with a loud click and averts her eyes from him. He thinks he's scaring her and he feels bad about it, but also … very confused as to why she locked the door. She doesn't seem to want him to leave but doesn't want to chat either.

"Um, are you okay?" he whispers, trying his best not to frighten her.

"Shhhh, she'll hear you." Okay. Now he's creeped out.

All of a sudden, there's a banging on the door and they both jump. The demon nurse girl steps forward and latches onto him, her index finger indicating that he shouldn't make a sound.

"Maka! I know you're in there! Come on! You can't chicken out last minute! You're already here!" Wait ... Soul knows that voice.

"Patty?" The girl he assumes to be Maka turns to him wide-eyed like every guy on campus doesn't know who 'Patty-the-fucking-crazy' is. News flash: every guy on and off campus in this state probably know who 'Patty-the-fucking-crazy' is. Her extrovertedness knows no bounds.

"Soul? What a coincidence! Have you seen a sexy demon nurse running about?" He looks down at the poor girl as she shakes her head, silently pleading for him not to give her away.

"Can't say that I have. I've been kinda busy in here…" A smirk spreads across his face as she smiles up at him, her hands still clutching his left arm.

"OH! Sorry to interrupt your doo-doo sess! I'll catch ya later!" And with that, he can almost see her skip away. He loves how Patty just _assumes_ he's taking a dump and isn't, by any means, partaking in sexual activities. Wonderful. It's good to know where he stands.

He hears a small snort leave the source of his capture, catching his attention once again.

"That was brilliant."

"Was it, now?" Her eyes meet his briefly then look to her hands still firmly grasping his person. She quickly lets go and steps away sheepishly. "So, why are you hiding from Patty?"

"I don't think that's any of your business."

"Okay," he shrugs. He finds that sometimes showing disinterest will get him what he wants. "Sorry." He shows no hurt feelings or ill will as he moves toward the door, only for her hand to block his path.

"You can't leave yet, what if she's still out there?"

"It's not really any of my business, so why should I care?" Oof, that came out a tad bit more spiteful than he had planned, but he thinks that he got his point across. She's staring up at him blankly before she becomes a little flustered, stuttering out what he thinks are excuses to justify her odd attitude.

"I, she just, it's complicated, I don't- ugh, fine," she sighs. "She's trying to set me up with someone and I just … I don't know, I'm not really good with that kind of stuff. Romance has never really worked out for me, so I kinda freaked out and hid from her. And now I'm rambling, awesome. I'm going to shut up now." Her hand goes to pinch the bridge of her nose, but she stops herself, realizing that she'll ruin her makeup if she does that.

"Well, then," Soul clears his throat. It's uncomfortable now, not that it wasn't before, but it's exceedingly more so at this point. "I think she's gone now." He watches as she hesitantly steps to the side to let him leave, gritting her teeth in embarrassment. Soul gets to the door, but glances back at her before he prepares to leave; the look on her face has him slightly defeated. He sighs before scratching the back of his head, his hand sliding down to rub the nape of his neck.

"Do you, uh, like scary movies?" he asks suddenly, turning and stepping back to lean against the sink once more. She's looking at him a bit taken aback, but a soft smile spreads across her lips.

"I do, actually. You?"

"Couldn't live without them. Do you have a favourite?"

"Not particularly. It's hard to choose between so many good horror films." Okay. This is working out better than he had anticipated. Soul isn't usually good at making small talk, but … she seems to need it and he's not a prick. It also helps that she actually has an interest in his preferred topic, otherwise … this could have potentially been an extremely painful experience.

They continue to talk for a short while about how they both coincidentally watch Psycho first every year and he is elated. This chick is a heck of a lot cooler than he had originally assumed and that's saying something. He's a little jealous of the guy that Patty is setting her up with…

"So, … it was nice talking to you, but I'm kinda supposed to be DJing and I've been gone for, like," Soul checks his phone. "Holy shit, it's almost been a half hour. Harvar's gonna kill me. Sorry, but I gotta go."

"Oh! Yeah, that's cool. Thanks for, um, hanging out in a bathroom with me," she giggles nervously as she moves out of his way. She still seems to be a little worried about the whole Patty setting her up with a stranger thing. He gets it, he really does.

"But, hey," he starts before opening the door. "Patty's pretty sweet. I don't think she would try to set you up with some asshole or whatever, so maybe you could just meet him. Who knows, you two might become good friends if nothing else." He watches as that small smile of hers appears again as she nods.

"Thanks." And with that, he leaves, mostly because he has nothing left to say and Kilik will have his hide if he doesn't get back to work. He shuts the door behind him and leisurely makes his way to the stairs, only to be pulled back aggressively into a bedroom by his collar.

"You little liar!"

"Patty? God, you scared the shit out of me!" Who pulls someone backward by the collar like that? He knows of only one person and that's because she just fucking did it. His adam's apple is throbbing, god damn!

"SHHHH!" She's being louder than he is ... "Look, I know you were hiding Maka, you're nice like that. So?"

"...So?"

"What did you think of her, doofus? She's cute, right? I just think you two are meant for each other! And, I mean, you did help her just now, so you have to not hate her."

"Patty, slow down. What are you even talking about right now?"

"She's the girl I'm setting you up with! Did you two get along?"

"Oh … "

 _Ooohhhh._ Soul Usually is able to catch onto things quickly, but he would not have assumed that anyone would have thought to set him up with a girl like Maka, mostly because he can tell that she's hot. Most of his blind dates have been with … less than attractive girls, some guys, none of which appealed to him in the slightest, so to see that someone had planned to set him up with a girl that was actually his type was … refreshing.

"Well, I mean, yeah, she's cute, but she didn't seem too interested in meeting anyone. She looked scared."

"She gets like that, but I think she'll like you once she actually meets you! Well, I guess you already met, but not under the proper circumstances. You're DJing, right? We'll catch up with you later after I get some boos in her and she loosens up. Ttfn!" And yet again, she just … leaves. He really just doesn't know how to handle that girl. Sighing, he exits the room and makes his way back down the stairs where the crowd has multiplied like bunnies. He looks across the room to find Harvar staring right back at him, bringing his index and thumb up to his mouth to indicate that he needs a smoke - now. Soul hops over the couch, this time really glaring people down because he really just doesn't want to be jostled about. People move, but there are probably 300 people in this small space and there's only so much they can do. He's thankful that they tried.

He finally makes it back up to his throne and relieves Harvar from Dj duty.

"What were you doing? Taking a dump?" Why does everyone think that that's what he does? Is he not cool enough to potentially have had sex or something? Good Lord.

"I thought I might as well while I had the chance," Soul quips.

"Please tell me that you at least washed your hands."

Soul shrugs, placing his left hand on Harvar's shoulder and massages it slightly. "Who's to say."

"Yeah, okay," Harvar smirks, turning and walking down the few steps without another word. He's just a little bit of an asshole sometimes. Chuckling to himself, Soul sits down and checks what songs were played in his absence. Harvar, that good boy, didn't touch a thing. Auto-shuffle is a blessing.

* * *

It's been about 45 minutes since he came back from the bathroom and he keeps looking over at the stairs. He never did see Patty or that Maka girl descend from the second floor unless he missed them at some point, which is very unlikely seeing as he's sitting facing toward the staircase and hasn't really taken his eyes off of it. Okay, he'll admit it, he's a little taken with the Maka girl. Patty has good match-making skills. He feels like an idiot for not realizing that she and he are the pair that is to be forced together by the power of Patty. He won't say that he hadn't hoped for it, he just found it very unlikely to have been put together with a girl such as Maka. She didn't seem to be the type that would typically be paired with him. Physically, anyway; she has the looks of a popular girl - not in a bad way.

Soul feels a tap on his shoulder and is pulled from his avid staring at the staircase. He turns to find two girls, one dressed like a sexy mouse, the other he guesses is supposed to be a frog of some sort, as there's a lot of green going on - mostly paint, very little clothing … yet again. She makes a good Strumpet the frog. As funny as he finds his own joke, Soul is trying his best not to cringe; they probably want to request a song and he really hopes it's not some stupid mainstream piece of trash.

"Hey, there," the green girl smiles. "You've been sitting there all night, why don't you come dance with us?" Well … he wasn't expecting _this_.

"I'm sorry?"

"We're asking you to dance," the other girl giggles.

"Uh, … yeah. I got that."

"Well?"

"I … sorry, but I don't think-"

"Oh, come on!" They cut him off, the mouse girl grabbing ahold of his right arm. "It'll be fun!"

He's freaking out just a little bit, this has never happened to him. Why do they want to dance with him? And to the point of attempting to drag him out of his nice, comfortable seat to be crushed by heaps of sweaty people dancing? No, thanks.

"I really shouldn-"

"Hey, babe! Here's your beer." Once again, he gets cut off. Usually, he'd be annoyed, especially when someone sits in his lap without warning or permission, but when he sees who it is, he can't hold back the smirk. "Hello," Maka says, reaching out a hand to the two girls.

"Uh, who are you?" What a bitchy way to respond to someone. He glares at the girls slightly, on the verge of telling them to beat it.

"I'm his girlfriend." She retracts her initially outstretched hand to point at Soul. "And you are?" Oh, yeah. He likes her. He especially likes that she can handle herself very well.

The two girls scoff and walk away without a retort, much to Soul and Maka's content. She stays in his lap, turning her head to look at him as she places her left elbow on his shoulder.

"Thank you for that."

"You're quite welcome, however; my assistance comes at a price," she states, looking at her nails with a bored expression.

"Oh? Do tell." He leans back in his seat to allow her a more comfortable arrangement on his legs, her body slightly sinking against his. The two girls from earlier seem to be keeping their eyes on them for whatever reason, so she reaches over with her right hand to lightly run her fingers through his hair. He almost can't handle it, but he does, surprisingly well.

"I would like you to play a song for me later." Soul's eyes narrow.

"What song?"

"Later." She smiles mischievously, patting his left cheek. "You know - while I'm on the subject -" she reaches down and squeezes his thigh. "You're not as boney as you seem." He chuckles, his head rolling to the side.

"Thanks, neither are you." His right arm wraps around her waist, his hand finding the small of her back where his thumb begins to rub circles. He feels a shiver go up her spine and he won't lie, it makes him feel pretty damn good about himself. Not in a weird way, but … good. It's a guy thing, don't worry about it. He usually doesn't partake in the ritual that is flirting, especially with such *normally* beautiful girls with honey blonde hair and green eyes that leave you paralyzed, but she's different, an obvious dits, and she doesn't seem to care about social norms. Not to mention she likes scary movies filled with blood and gore almost as much as he does. She's, like, ... kinda perfect.

"Are you calling me fat?"

"Who, me?" he scoffs. "I would never. You're not hurting my legs in the slightest." He leans forward, his mouth coming extremely close to her ear. "In fact, I'm rather enjoying this." He pulls back to find a light pink sprinkling the apples of her cheeks as she attempts to hold back a smile.

"So, tell me," he begins. "Why the urge to save me?"

"I don't like owing people. You helped me earlier, I'm just returning the favour."

"Is that really all?" He catches her eyes briefly before she looks elsewhere only to return his stare once more.

"I think we should makeout." Well, wasn't that sudden. He sputters for a moment, chuckling as he nervously reaches over to choose a song to play next.

"Why do you say that?" Having her sitting in his lap is already putting him a bit on edge, so the prospect of making out with her has him nervous as hell. It's not something that he normally does with girls he's only just met … it's not something that he does at all, to be frank. Does he want to? Yes. Abso-freakin'-lutely. Is it a good idea? No. No, it is not. Well … no! No, … no.

"Because those two underdressed weirdos from earlier are still looking over here," Maka whispers in his ear as his heads turned. "I think they doubt our relationship."

"What? Ours? How rude of them." He feels the hair on the back of his neck stand as her lips lightly brush past the shell of his ear. He had briefly thought moments ago that he might have the upperhand, but he should know better. Girls always have the upperhand…

"Tis," she breaths, her lips laying on his cheek for a moment. Did she just … kiss his cheek? He turns to look at her, the surprise on his face hidden under tangled tresses of champagne as she hovers slightly over his hunched form. "What? Are you scared?" His face contorts into something close to annoyance; his eyebrows come together; his jaw tightens as he grinds his teeth for a moment. He's debating whether or not this is a good idea. He already knows the proper answer: it's a terrible idea and he should probably refrain, but … she has just challenged him! Not to mention her lips and silvery emerald stare make for a good argument. Soul finds himself leaning forward, the hand on her waist tightening as their weight shifts a bit.

"Not in the least," he states confidently, mere inches from her lips. Her eyes widen a bit, her hand quickly gripping his back as she tilts back from his slight adjustment in the chair. "You seem to be a bit," Soul chuckles. He watches as she licks her lips, clearing her throat to say something, but, "Aw, hell." He decides, in a moment of defeat by her feminine wiles, to just do it.

His lips apply a bit of pressure, unsure by her stiff reaction if it was the right choice. She does, however, sink into him, quickly returning his kiss. Her hands go to cradle his neck as she becomes a little more aggressive and he can taste the alcohol on her breath as he's sure that she can taste the beer on his. His left hand finds the nape of her neck as the other remains on her waist, his grip tightening, fingers curving into the skin of her lower back.

He quickly pulls away after she grazes his bottom lip with her teeth, because that has him feeling this a little too much, but she chases him upon his sudden retreat. The back of his head connects with the wall, leaving him no place to run to as she continues her slight assault, sucking her way down his neck.

"Maka, shit, Maka, I need to cool it down for a sec." Souls hands both grab ahold of her elbows, gently pushing.

"Huh?" she asks, eyes a bit hazy as she pulls back.

"We should, uh, save this for a more _private_ setting … don't you think?" Maka turns bright red as she realizes just how many people could potentially be watching them. She hides her face in his chest out of embarrassment, fingers clutching the front of his shirt.

"... you probably think I'm some sort of hussy, huh?"

"What? No, I just … prefer to avoid pda and I … I don't want to end up going too far in front of people." He finds himself rubbing up and down her back, hopefully comforting her. They stay in this position for a while until Soul realizes that Maka has fallen asleep on him. It's sort of underwhelming. Not sure what to do, he sends Harvar another text, pleading for him to come hold up the fort for no more than 10 minutes. He then texts Patty in hopes that she might make this whole situation a bit more appropriate. Luckily, Patty doesn't drink enough to get drunk, so she finds her way to them in a jiffy, followed by Harvar right after.

"Well, now …" Harvar says, a hint of delight lacing his voice. "What, may I ask, happened here, hmmm?" Soul rolls his eyes.

"I'll tell you what happened! I happened! I told you that you two would make a perfect match!"

"You set them up?"

"Of course I did! Though, I have a feeling that even if I hadn't, they would have found their way to one another. I haven't formally introduced them yet and they've already gotten to this stage!"

"Wow. Maybe you can set me up with someone, too," Harvar jokes. Patty looks him up and down and winks.

"I think I know just who to call!"

"Okay, okay," Soul intervenes. "That's all fine and dandy, but I need to get this girl to a bedroom. She's drooling on me."

"Oooohhh, a bedroom~" Patty coos.

"Yes, where _you_ will stay and watch over her because _you're_ the one who let her get to this stage in the first place." She pouts for a minute, but accepts the blame - as she should. "Now, if you'll excuse us, Harv. This shouldn't take longer than 10 minutes."

"Don't you dare go taking a dump again."

"I make no promises." This whole night has just been one weird thing after another, both pleasant and somewhat not, but mostly the former. He follows Patty down the steps, adjusting Maka in his arms in a way that she hopefully won't hit her head or anything. He doesn't have to worry about glaring at people for them to move; he can depend on the power of queen crazy to part the sea with her popularity. It's amazing, really. People move aside with smiles instead of faces riddled with fear. … He kind of prefers the fear, but he'll deal.

They make it to the stairs without much hassle, getting over the couch is interesting, and attempting to make his way up the stairs is an ordeal, but they accomplish the task in the end. Soul has adjusted Maka so that she's kind of in a piggyback position on the front side of his body; her legs are on either side of his hips, arms wrapping around his neck as her head rests on his shoulder. His left arm is supporting her weight while his left is holding her to him by the waist so that she doesn't fall backward. Patty opens the door to the room that she had yanked him into earlier, leading him in as she flips on the lamp.

"Thanks for carrying her up here. I may have given her a little too much to drink."

"You think?" he says a little over-sarcastically. "Why would you allow her to get to this point?"

"I didn't mean to … she just kept drinking." Soul sighs as he lays Maka down on the bed, pulling a light blanket over her body.

"Well, she's your responsibility. I have to go dj because I promised I would do it. Make sure she drinks a lot of water." Soul doesn't like scolding people, but sometimes, especially in situations such as these, he feels compelled. He heads for the door reluctantly, the urge to watch over her slowing him down. He leaves without another word, however, because as much as he wants to stay, he really only just met the girl. He rolls his head as he sighs heavily. He grits his teeth and makes his way back to his dj corner, hoping that the rest of the night goes by quickly and smoothly. His only regret? He doesn't know what song she wants him to play…

* * *

Hope you all enjoyed that! I'm working on updates for all of my stories, so keep an eye out! I'm so sorry about leaving you all to wait for so long! I'll try harder from now on to update more often!

I hope that everyone is doing well~!

Much Love~!

K.T.


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